


Loyalties

by RussianWitch



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: AO3 FB Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Maybe - Freeform, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 15:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15440103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: There was some evidence of the buster being a tough son of a bitch from the start.Dominic kind of hadn't expected to be reconfirming the fact by way of his own fists.Or how conflicted he'd feel about it.





	Loyalties

**Author's Note:**

> not betaed

There was some evidence of the buster being a tough son of a bitch from the start.  
Dominic kind of hadn't expected to be reconfirming the fact by way of his own fists.   
Studying the bruised and battered body, he rests his head against the wall he's been propping up for a quarter of an hour now, studying the bastard.  
Waiting for the cop to wake up again gives him far too much time to think. Standing there, all he can feel is the ache in his knuckles and the itch from a fresh layer of sweat drying on his back in the basement's heat.   
Staying as far away from the cop as possible, without leaving the room, seems like the best idea for the moment.  
He's pretty sure their last round of 'discussion' has left O'Conner with at least one cracked rib.   
Part of Dominic winced every time his knuckles dug into the cop's flesh.  
The soft part, the part that had latched onto the cocky shit who'd stopped to pick him up even after Dominic took his car because it was the right thing to do, that part wants to untie the asshole, take him up into the house instead, forgive him the betrayal...   
Thinking back on that little incident pisses Dominic off all over again.   
If he hadn't been high on the win, on having someone new to play with, he would have seen it.  
Only he hadn't, because he'd liked the hero worship and eagerness to please. He'd liked the way the buster hung on to his every word.   
Leaving imprints of his fists on the buster's skin, it shouldn't have felt as good as it did.   
Shouldn't feel like marking territory all over again.   
Dominic doesn't get off on causing pain.  
He knows it, knows how to use it to enforce a point, that if nothing else works...  
Still, every time he'd been tempted since getting out, all he had to do was remember what he'd done to that guy— to stop.  
Remembers what it cost him, what it cost the team and he went looked for another way.   
Only now, looking down at O'Conner, the sight of blood and sweat sends a frisson down his spine. Electricity crawls across his skin concentrating low in his gut.  
Disgust, anger and—something he doesn't want to put a name to, twisted as it is.   
O'Conner moans, curses, and spits not bothering to open his eyes. Gobs of bright red blood land on the gray concrete floor.  
If it wasn't for the blood in his mouth, the cop would probably not be able to spit at all.  
Dominic watches as O'Conner takes a few shallow breaths, composing himself.  
Icy blue eyes open and glare mutinously at Dominic finding him effortlessly in the shadows.   
"Admiring your handiwork?" The cop slurs. He is hampered by a bruised jaw and loose teeth, and yet the tone—is calculated to make Dominic's hackles rise.   
"Ya really wanna be mouthing off right now?" He snaps pushing off the wall fists clenching tight, ready to shut the smart mouth before the buster says something they are both are going to regret.   
The way the cop's eyes are burning, Dominic knows exactly what he's gearing up to.  
"Guess you didn't get the chance to look at the mess you left behind last time..."  
Dominic lunges.  
Brian tenses preparing for impact because he damn well knows he has it coming, but still keeps on fucking talking.  
"Not while it was still fresh."   
Dominic's fist sinks into the muscle of the buster's unprotected gut. The impact drives all the air out of the cop's lungs leaving the bound man coughing and gasping.  
Hate boils up right under Dominic's skin. He shoves it down, shoves a lid on it, doing anything else proves Brian right, proves Dominic to be nothing but a criminal.   
He marches himself to the other side of the room, pulls back by the skin of his teeth.  
He doesn't want the cop dead after all, Dominic reminds himself, not yet, maybe...   
"Tell me what ya gave up." He orders. Because while Brian deserves a good kicking, there are there for a reason.   
"Told you everything already!" The cop yells, choking on the blood in his mouth.  
While they were heading for the border, O'Connor had talked and talked.  
Dominic hadn't really listened.  
With the dislocated shoulder, Jesse's death, and everything that followed— from getting stabbed in the back and then let go then crossing the border... All he had been able to manage by the end was keeping the car on the road, and avoiding the cops.   
The cop huffs trying to get hair sticking to his brow out of his eyes. He prods his split lip with his tongue makes it worse and leaves Dominic with the urge to clean him up.  
It makes Dominic want to hit him all over again, to punish O'Conner for getting under his skin that fast.  
He hadn't trusted anyone new for ages before the cop came sniffing around, not since he'd gotten out.  
Hadn't wanted to either, and now—he isn't sure he's ever going to trust anyone outside of what's left of the team ever again.   
He'd ignored Vince's warnings because Vince had been jealous and territorial about Mia.  
He should have listened.  
Vince might have impulse issues and be a hot head, but his instincts had always been good.   
Unfortunately, Dominic hadn't been thinking, or not thinking hard enough.  
"Now, why is it I don't buy that?" He sighs. Circling the room he removes himself from the cop's line of sight.   
Brian keeps staring straight ahead.  
Dominic has to respect him for not trying to twist around for a look. Not that he could, without causing himself some serious hurt.   
"Dunno?" O'Connor shrugs, which has to hurt, "paranoia ain't a good sign, let me tell ya, man. Have you considered therapy?" Dominic swallows a laugh, and that makes everything that much harder.  
The cop shouldn't be likable, not now Dominic knows—only the cop is still Brian, still the crazy bastard who blew an engine just to get Dominic's attention and suffered through Mia's tuna sandwiches for weeks and...   
"I am now," Dominic sighs. He stops right behind the cop's back, close enough that O'Conner should be able to feel him there. He wants to wrap his hands around the cop's throat.  
He doesn't even want to do any damage, just to feel O'Conner swallow between rapid, shallow breaths and the cop's pulse jumping against his fingers.  
Wants to feel in control again.   
The cop groans, throwing his head back to look up at Dominic, "what the fuck do you want, Dom?" he demands.  
Brian's voice is breaking, the words slurring.  
Dominic knows he's riding the edge of exhaustion, he isn't far behind himself.   
Neither of them is thinking straight, Dominic admits to himself.   
"Just wondering, how far ya were gonna go?"  
He watches O'Conner tense and curl in on himself, looking guilty for the first time.  
Laying his hands heavily on the cop's shoulders, Dominic forces him to straighten up, "how far?"  
His hand slips on sweaty skin slides forward and his fingers snag on the overstretched collar of O'Conner's shirt.   
"What the actual fuck!?" The cop growls, bucking under Dominic's hand despite his cracked ribs, trying to get away from him.  
"How far were you gonna go, O'Conner?" He demands.   
His fingers dig into the meat of Brian's shoulder, the overstretched collar of the grimy shirt tearing to expose a collarbone and more skin.  
The cop tries to jerks away, his shirt snagging on Dominic's fingers. The cotton tears exposing bruises and cuts responsible for the dried blood on the front of the shirt.   
"I was doing my job!" O'Conner spits from between clenched teeth, and Dominic's gut twists into a knot.   
"Sleeping with my sister was doing ya job?" He leans on Brian's shoulder, makes sure it hurts, enjoying the cop's pained groans for a second or two.  
O'Conner not even trying to defend himself feels like justification. Dominic wonders if O'Conner's bosses know about their boy's tactics.  
The distraction costs him.  
O'Conner growls, executing a turn that must hurt like a bitch and sinks his bloody teeth in Dominic's arm.   
The surprise more than the pain of the bite snaps Dominic out of the red haze that has been fogging up his head from the moment he watched Jesse gunned down. Wrenching his arm away from sharp teeth he steps back retreating to slump against the wall.  
The adrenaline that's been keeping him going is suddenly nowhere to be found. He finds himself on his ass staring dumbly at the teeth marks on his underarm and the blood welling there.  
"Fuck you, Brian!" He curses from the bottom of his heart wishing the whole situation would go away.  
He's sore, tired and can't even remember last time he's felt this shitty.   
"Yeah, right back at ya, man!" The cause of it all sneers spitting more blood.   
Dominic presses his hands to his eyes hard enough to see stars form behind his eyes. Stars are better than the contempt on the cop's face.  
O'Connor, lunatic that he is, laughs in his face suddenly.   
"Damn, I need a cigarette," he sighs once he calms a little. The whiny tone reminds Dominic of the kids who hang around the store angling for free ice cream.   
The man in front of him is a complete stranger. A stranger he'd thought to be family.  
Dominic finds himself laughing hysterically because his life is fucked beyond recognition all thanks to one ballsy shit who will complain about nicotine withdrawal but not broken ribs.  
The worst thing is, there is shit all he can do about it.  
"Didn't figure ya for a smoker," he notes gasping for air and wiping away stray tears, "anything else I miss?"  
"Tons," O'Connor shrugs, "you actually care?"  
It's a good question, the answer, of course, being Dominic doesn't or shouldn't.  
What he should do, is put a bullet in the damn cop's head, or drop him near the border so he'll be able to find his way home.   
Only the cop is still Brian, and Dominic still doesn't have a handle on that.   
"Ya proud now? Hot-shot cop bringing downs jackers for the man," The feds certainly picked the right guy for the job.  
O'Conner must have had a hell of a time at the academy, or not, can't really know, can he?  
Dominic can't bring himself to ask either, even if it kills him not to know.   
"Yeah, 'cause the reason I busted my ass trying to pin your jobs on every other team on the fucking scene is 'cause I didn't feel like going back to writing parking tickets!" The cop snaps, "You think that raid on Tran just happened?" He demands spitting blood.  
With everything else going on Dominic hadn't exactly paid much attention to all the things that had been happening in the periphery. The Buster's breaking into the other team's garages, the raid on Tran's family house, all the little things going on in the last months all lead back to the same rat.  
He would have noticed had he paid attention.  
"All that—, just ta get me?" Under different circumstances, he'd be kind of proud—, "starting with that damn raid." The memory of that night spoiled, now that he knows it was all a ploy.   
"That's what bugs you?" O'Conner asks derisively. Dominic supposes there are more important things to get pissed off about. But the raid that—that had been personal, engineered to get to him specifically.   
"Why the fuck couldn't ya be some punk?" He sighs, his life would have been infinitely easier. It doesn't help that the list of all O'Conner's misdeeds keeps running on an infinite loop in the back of his mind.   
"According to my lieutenant: I am." Brian snorts, "that's why they picked me for the job." His chuckles turn into a groan and he freezes.   
"No surprise there." Dominic wonders what O'Conner looks like in uniform, not like Brian. At the same time, Dominic can see it, O'Conner all serious and neat in his shiny blues ready to serve.   
Sitting around the basement isn't doing either of them any good, and Dominic is dying for a beer anyway.  
Getting up with a heavy sigh, Dominic grabs a knife off the shelf where he's been keeping it 'just in case' while watching the cop watch him in return.   
O'Conner licks his lips like he's gearing up to say something.   
In the end, he doesn’t, he swallows instead, closes his eyes and raises his chin radiating defiance.  
As if baring his throat for the knife means something.   
Dominic lets him sweat.  
Circling silently out of O'Conner's sight before bending down to saw through the rope on the cop's arms.  
Once O'Conner's hands are free, he drops the knife at the cop's feet and walks away.   
Stomping up the stairs, Dominic drags himself to the kitchen. Not that going to the kitchen can make things better now, but it is airconditioned and there is beer.   
There is a cop in his house.   
Dominic has just armed with a knife that can end up buried in his back.   
He finds himself too tired to give a damn.   
All he's ever wanted was to protect his family. No matter what he did, what he tried: he'd ended up getting slapped down every single time so far. Maybe, he's just screwed in general: god or whatever decided Dominic is a sinner, so everything he touches turns to shit.   
Would explain a hell of a lot.   
He doesn't bother listening for footsteps, or the opening and closing of the basement door.   
Lost in thought, he almost jumps when the fridge door opens behind him.   
Only when the Buster drops onto a chair across from him does Dominic bother to look up.   
Brian downs the beer practically in one go.  
Not the best thing to do on an empty stomach. Definitely not smart with a possible concussion and having been up for who knows how long. Not that it can do any more damage than Dominic has already done.   
"Dom!" The sound of his name snaps Dominic out of his daze and makes him focus on the Buster's face.  
"What?" He grunts, too tired for anything else and embarrassed at getting caught staring at nothing.   
"Fuck, I'm too damn done for this shit!" The cop growls.  
Dominic gets the impression he, they missed some kind of moment somewhere that could have untangled the whole mess of loyalties that has both of them off balance.   
"So, go sleep it off." He shrugs feeling ancient, and not up to any more conversation.   
"Suddenly I rate a guest room?" The cop bitches, fighting to keep from face-planting on the table.  
Maybe it's to pick a fight, or he wants to avoid any more talk as much as Dominic.   
"Basement's still there if ya want." He waves his bottle at the door.  
O'Conner makes a face and Dominic drags himself out of his chair straining to remember the upstairs layout.  
The sound of sneakers squeaking as they drag against the tile floor follow him to the stairs and up to the second floor.   
The house is big, bought to have space for them all and whoever came along.   
Now that everything has blown up in their faces—in his face. Dominic wonders how he'd ever managed to delude himself they were all going to live happily ever after. With Jesse gone, with the rest of his family in custody or getting grilled about his whereabouts, Dominic wonders how he had managed to remain that naive for that long.   
Assuming the Buster will figures out picking a room on his own, Dominic stumbles towards the master bedroom ready to drop and forget the world for a couple of hours.  
He doesn't expect to crash into Brian turning to close the bedroom door.  
"You need to tape my ribs." The Buster tells him casually. Like Dominic isn't responsible for cracking them in the first place.  
It forces him to change course for the bathroom to dig around for a first aid kit.   
Brian is on the bed when he comes back.  
His torn shirt already on the floor, prodding at his ribs and wincing with every poke.  
He doesn't even flinch when Dominic kneels in front of him with damp towels and the kit. O'Conner grits his teeth and sits to allow Dominic to clean and tape him up like nothing happened.   
Once Brian is bandaged up, the best he knows how Dominic gets off the floor.  
Putting the first aid kit away, Dominic fully expects the room to be empty when he returns.  
When he returns, Brian is sprawled over most of the bed looking comatose.   
With everything that's been taking away, he isn't willing to relinquish his damn bed.  
Getting rid of his own shirt, Dominic drops on the bed.   
Grabbing a pillow, he pulls it over his head.   
The last conscious thought Dominic has is that maybe when he opens his eyes again he's going to be back in his cramped bedroom in Echo Park.


End file.
